The Nightshades
by Ronniekinns
Summary: The summer after Sirius first returns from Hogwarts, his new attitude affects all the Blacks whether they want it to or not. Told from Regulus' POV, novel length.
1. Coming Home

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"You've got to be taught before it's too late

Before you are six, or seven, or eight

To hate all the people your relatives hate

You've got to be carefully taught!"

- South Pacific'

One of the first things every child learns in is life is how to say their name--Joseph, Jane, John, Elizabeth, or Regulus, like me. At first, I thought I was no different, but it wasn't long before I learned I had been taught that in an atypical way.

There is an art, Mother says, to being a Black, and as a member of the Black family, I can tell you there is also an art to saying your name. When asked by, well, anyone--even _Mudbloods_, Mother says--what I am called, I will hold my head up high and say clearly: "Regulus Black."

Emphasis on the Black, of course.

In one of the letters I received last May from Sirius on the subject, he said--and I quote--"bullshit."

But Sirius is often ignorant in these things. 

***

****

ONE

Coming Home

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King's Cross Station, June 30, 1972

"Regulus Aneas Black! Do you not have the courtesy enough to answer even your own _mother's_ questions!"

I snapped my head up, but quickly learned that it would have been better if I had kept it down. My mother's face loomed not centimetres from my own, and I tried to resist the urge to back away. 

"I- I'm very sorry, Mother. What was it you were saying?"

Mother scowled at me. "You should have been listening," she sniffed. "Therefore, I am not going to tell you what I was saying. And if it was important, at least now you've learned your lesson."

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"I'm sorry, who?"

I quickly corrected myself. A few of the ways people can tell that you're a Black, Mother says, is correct English, good penmanship, a knowledge of wizarding history, and, of course, respect to your elders--unless you _are_ an elder; then you are expected to teach others to respect you. 

"I'm sorry, Mother."

Sighing, as if I was pathetic--and I am, according to Sirius--Mother turned to Father. "Where's the train?" she snapped. "It's late."

"Probably the Mudbloods clogging up the subways," responded Father. Just for effect, he sneered at a Muggle passer-by.

It is a rare occasion indeed that Father is here with us. I can count the times I've seen him out of his study on one hand--or maybe two. It was with Kreacher, Sirius, and my cousins--and sometimes Mother and Aunt Cleneatha-- that I grew up. He pays more attention to Sirius, anyway--I am just the extra, the one who will inherit the Black estates if something goes wrong with my older brother. I don't mind that; I would have hated having the responsibility of the family name resting on my shoulders.

"You should go have a word with Dumbledore, Aegeon. From what I've heard from the letters Narcissa sends Cleneatha, the Mudbloods are just clogging up Hogwarts. And it's not as if they're good at studies and whatnot-- - half are failing their classes! Typical, of course, for their kind, but I'm not sure that I want to send Regulus--"

Hearing my name, I focused all of my attention on their conversation.

"--to Hogwarts if it's going to be like this. And Sirius has already been corrupted, from what I've heard from--"

"Shush, Arachne," said Father, quickly noticing that I wasn't staring off into space anymore. He nudged his wife in my direction.

"Oh, _Regulus_! What _is_ it with you today? First, daydreaming;, now, eavesdropping!" She turned to Father. "It's those Muggles, Aegeon! _See_ how they're corrupting our children! Just _being_ around them turns Regulus into...into_ this!_"

"Arachne," said my father in his warning voice that I had only heard once--when I had accidentally tripped over a rug in the kitchen and had broken every single wine glass in the house--and I didn't want to hear it again. Mother, of course, was different.

"Do _not_ Arachne' me, you--"

I didn't hear the rest, as I now was the one who was shouting. "Mother, Father, look! It's the students! It's the Hogwarts students!" 

Father frowned at me for creating such a ruckus, as several Muggles had started looking in our direction but had turned away at the sight of my mother. Despite breaking some of the Ministry's other minor regulations, my father would never let a Muggle know of our world. "Regulus, quiet down," he said sharply.

I dropped my voice down to it's regular tone, and pleaded, "Father, may I _please _go look for Sirius?"

"No you may _not_," said Mother.

"Excuse me, Arachne, but the boy was talking to me._ I_ am his father, you know."

"You haven't been there his entire life, you're just in the Ministry all the time. You say you're "solving the Mudblood problem," but I bet that's not what your doing. I bet you're just gambling, or passing your time with whores, or even have taken another woman--"

"I HAVE DONE NO SUCH THING!"

Seizing the opportunity, I quickly tiptoed away from my parents, who were now starting a full-fledged row, and made my way through the students who were gradually filing out of the platform. It was hard to see anything--I had always been a little short, but Mother said that I might have a growth spurt soon. But maybe I won't, and I'll be a short hero, like Napoleon Bonaparte, and conquer the world and make even Arachne Black cower before me--

"REGULUS!" called a familiar voice.

There are many words to describe the relationship between Bellatrix Black and myself, but I find it hard to find such words. We don't hate each other; yet we aren't best friends either. It mostly is because of the age difference between us, I assumed. I am a more mature nine-year-old; at least that's what Bella says. I suppose that's why she doesn't mind me tagging along with her at parties and such; I suppose I'm the only one of her relatives that she doesn't absolutely hate, besides Sirius.

She overcame the distance between us quickly--Bella was always a fast one--and bent down so she was my height. Cupping my face in her hands, she whispered, "Hello, cousin. Did you have a good year?"

This was how my cousin always greeted me. She had a special sort of magic to her, one I couldn't really identify to a stranger, but it was there. She subdued me, even if I was as angry as the devil, just like that; just by meeting her grey eyes with mine.

I solemnly nodded. Bella let go of me and rose, and the spell was broken. 

"Bella! Have you seen Sirius? I can't find him!" I asked frantically.

Almost before I finished my sentence, Bella cut me off. "Why do you want to know?"

Shocked at her open lack of manners--Blacks do _not_ interrupt one another, though interrupting a non-family member is acceptable--I curtly responded, "Because he's my brother, Bellatrix. I thought you were intelligent."

Bella scowled. "I _am_ intelligent, _Regulus_. Your _brother_ is over there." She pointed to a huddled group of eleven-year-olds. Almost immediately, I picked out my brother's head from the throng.

I almost began to run towards Sirius' laughing figure, but remembered my manners just in time--and it was a good thing I did; you can only get what you want, Mother says, by being either violent or polite. Since I was smaller than most, I always went with the latter. "Thank you, cousin," I said quickly and as gratefully as I could--she _had_ told me where Sirius was--and once again began to walk towards my brother.

Her hand grabbed the back of my robes before I had got two steps. "Regulus," she breathed. "I wouldn't talk to Sirius just yet, if I were you."

I was astounded at my youngest cousin's behaviour. I hadn't seen my beloved brother--my other half--since last September, and Bella tells me to not see him! What is the world coming to?!

"Why not?" I pouted, once I realised that Bella wasn't going to let go of my robes.

"Because, Regulus, you haven't seen him in a year. He's _changed_. He's not the same Sirius that left 12 Grimmauld Place last September."

I responded to her stubbornly,: "He'll still want to see me. He _always_ wants to be with me. I'm his brother. And... and he doesn't like you, anyway! He told me so, last summer!"

"Fine." Bellatrix let go of my robes. I only realised how hard I was resisting her grip on me when I fell to the ground. A group of nearby seventh years laughed; I sneered at them. "Go talk to Sirius. Just don't come crying to me afterwards." She stalked off, presumably towards her friends.

She never looked back.

Slowly at first, I got up and dusted myself off. I made my way through the maze of unfamiliar faces, disregarding the fat woman who bent down and asked me, _oh little kiddie are you lost?_ A minute later, I was standing behind my brother, who was now laughing again. I took a deep breath and--:

"Sirius!" I said happily. "Sirius, you're back!"

I opened up my arms, anticipating a hug, a shout of "Regulus, at last!", a gleeful reunion between brothers. What I got was not what I anticipated.

Nothing.

Well, I suppose you couldn't call it nothing. Sirius turned around, gave me an exasperated look, and continued his conversation with the messy-haired boy beside him that I immediately recognised as one of the Potters. My mind quickly registered his appearance. 

__

"You've got to watch out for those Potters," my mother had warned me countless times. _"You'll never know if they're acceptable or not. Don't be stupid; don't assume from the moment you know that they're purebloods that they are _good_ purebloods. There is a difference, Regulus, between _purebloods_ and purebloods. One knows their lineage; the other might as well be scum."_

"... and--oh, you'll love this, James--McGonagall told dearest Sevviekins that even though the holidays hadn't technically begun yet, the use of magic is unacceptable, and would he please get off Miss Evans, I don't think she's very comfortable with you on top of her!"

The messy-haired boy--James Potter, I assumed--almost fell over laughing. His eyes filled up with hysterical tears, and just the sight of him gave even myself a giggle. A fat boy, situated between Potter and another eleven-year-old, began to laugh too, though I was under the impression that he was only laughing because Potter was. The other one--sickly- and kind-looking, hid a smile.

I tried again. Maybe my brother had wanted to finish his joke first before he greeted me. Yes, yes, that was it. Him registering my sudden appearance would have ruined his joke. Of course, why hadn't I thought of that before?

I opened up my arms, anticipating a hug again, and shrieked, "SIRIUS!"

...and all I got was more laughter.

I let my arms drop down to my sides; I was beginning to look stupid like that. Tears welled up in my eyes, though I did not let them fall. The most important rule of being a Black is to _never let them see your weakness_. And I couldn't.

The sickly-looking boy noticed me--I think every single person in the vicinity noticed me and my antics--and tapped my brother on the shoulder. "Sirius," he said. "Sirius, someone's behind you. I think he wants to talk to you." He gave me a small smile.

Sirius couldn't ignore me any longer now. I was openly pointed out to him. 

"Oh, him? Never mind him, Remus."

My heart sank. I'd never got this close to crying before, not since I was two and Mother yelled at me for accidentally wetting my trousers. I pretended to sneeze, pretended that that was the reason for my watery eyes--a cold, of course.

Remus, the boy who at least had a smidgen of manners, looked appalled at Sirius' words. He did not, however, say anything, which lowered my opinion of him a bit. He just continued to look at Sirius in a way that reminded me of Mother, but in a _much_ lesser form. _Sirius Canis Black, what do you think you're doing?!_ it said.

"Who is he?" snickered Potter, who still was trying to overcome his laughter. "Is he our dear Sevvie's little brother? Or one of your insane relatives?"

Sirius scowled. "I wish he was dear Snivelly's brother. But alas, he is mine. Just go away, Regulus, I don't want to talk to you or anyone else in _your_ stupid family."

I couldn't contain myself. How _dare_ he act like that to me! How dare he hang out with such scum as a Potter! And how _dare_ he forget he was a Black!

"_Our_ family," I seethed, trying to remain calm,. "Is--not--stupid. Our family just happens to be the most prestigious family to ever set foot on Britain--ever set foot on the world! We're rich, we're powerful, we're beautiful, we're influential--we're everything anyone ever wanted to be. We are, _especially_, not stupid! Blacks are intelligent, they are! Didn't you pay attention to Kreacher's stories? Great-great-great Uncle Rigel was the first man to--"

"See, I told you. Insane. Stuck in their pureblood mania."

Potter nodded. "_Now_ I understand what you're up against. I didn't believe they could be this horrible before."

And they talked like this in front of me, his own brother! "_Excuse me?!"_

Again, Sirius, Potter, and the fat boy ignored me. Remus gave me an oh-don't-pay-attention-to-them-they-don't-know-what-they're-doing look, which I instantly didn't pay attention to.

"So, _anyway,_ as I was saying," continued my brother, with a disdainful glance towards me. "Since McGonagall couldn't give Snape a detention, since it's the holidays, she gave him a boatload of extra Transfiguration homework. And you all know that that's his worst subject.... Oh, if looks could kill than McGonagall would surely be dead now..."

The boys guffawed again--though Remus' laugh did seem a bit forced--and Potter announced that his mother was probably looking for him;, it was time to go home. The overweight boy suddenly decided to go home too; they all said their goodbyes, exchanging addresses for owls and promises to meet up in Diagon Alley to buy their school supplies for the next year. I watched all of this wide-eyed, almost not believing it. This wasn't my brother. This was someone else. Or it _was_ Sirius, just masquerading himself as an actual Gryffindor-- yes, he had been sorted into that house, but how does a hat in a Mudblood-accepting school determine who you are, who you will be?

"Sirius, you really don't have to wait..." Remus was protesting. I must find out his last name; he seemed decent enough, but I hadn't seen him at any of the various balls purebloods hold. A halfblood, I deemed him; he seemed worthy, but not so much that I could tell from a distance--by the way he dressed, talked, held himself--that he was a pureblood. 

Halfbloods--Mother says that some are acceptable, though she'd rather we make friends with those of our sort. Some halfbloods, though, are as worthy as Mudbloods, and we are disgraced that they should be related to our blood, even if the relation is so distant that only generations and generations showed it.

"--I do," my brother was saying. He was using those eyes again--the eyes that could sometimes even soften Mother, and believe me, that is an accomplishment. 

Remus protested. Obviously he hadn't learned anything about getting Sirius to do something over the course of a school year with him. 

"No, you don't. You haven't seen your brother--this is your brother, right?--all year, and you've been stuck with me for that time and the hours in the compartment. And I thought you didn't like me because I wouldn't play Exploding Snap with you--"

Sirius sneered at me. For a second there, he resembled Severus Snape. I shivered. "I'd much rather spend time with you, Remus, than my brother."

"Then if you absolutely _must_ wait with me until my parents come--" Mother wouldn't like that at all, she _hates_ being late "-- then we'll all wait together. And if we're to spend time with each other, we might as well be introduced."

Remus bent down, so as to look eye to eye with me. He held out a thin hand. "Hello. I'm Remus Lupin. I'm eleven years old. You're Regulus Black, aren't you? Your brother has told me lots about you."

I stared at this boy--_Remus_ _Lupin,_ I'll remember that name--in wonder. Never had anyone, with the exception of, of course, Mother, stood up to Sirius like that. I sneaked a look at my brother, and--I couldn't believe it--he was _obeying_ this Lupin boy! 

I wouldn't care if this Lupin turned out to be a Mudblood. I would have worshipped him anyway.

I regained my composure--I was staring at Lupin, and he was starting to grin at me--and said clearly, "I am Regulus Black, age nine." Remembering the last line of Lupin's words to me, I added.: "According to the reunion I've had with my brother today, I doubt whatever he's told you of me is good."

At this, Lupin glared at Sirius, as if to say, _Now you've done it, even your nine-year-old brother hates you!_. They locked gazes, and glared at each other. Sirius was the first one to break.

"_Fine,_" he grumbled. My brother briskly walked towards me and, sighing, wrapped his arms around me. It was unexpected, this kindness; this was what I was hoping for when I had first approached my brother, which I had obviously not had received.

"I'm sorry about before, Reggie," he whispered in my ear. I didn't even bother to wince when that dratted nickname left his mouth. There was something wrong with Sirius.

I stood there, stiff, while Sirius began to whisper: "I love you, Regulus; you're my brother. Did you honestly think I'd leave you like that? I didn't know you'd take it so seriously... please forgive me, Reggie, I'm sorry..."

Slowly, I began to lift my arms up and hug my brother back. _"It's just a joke, it's not real..."_

"I'm sorry too. I'm sorry that you ever had to leave us."

After a few moments of brotherly bonding'--I could see Lupin standing beside us with a pleased look on his face--Sirius withdrew from our hug. He opened his mouth, as if to say something to Lupin, but--

"REGULUS!"

For the second time that day, I turned around to greet my youngest cousin. "Hello Bell--"

After stomping up to me, Bella grabbed my arm. "_Honestly,_ Regulus. I would have thought better of you than to socialise with _them. _I _knew_ you wouldn't listen to me when I told you to stay away from your brother and his friends."

__

Don't judge a book by its cover, Bella. Despite Lupin's appearance, he seemed very nice, and I was sure Bella and him could get along--both could control Sirius if they had their heart set on it. But just to be safe, I whispered the questioned that I dreaded into her ear. 

"Lupin--the ill-looking boy--he's not a Mudblood, is he?"

She snorted and gave me a look that said:_ Merlin, how can I even be related to someone as ignorant as you?!_ I hate it when she does that.

"Of _course_ not, Regulus. I wasn't talking about the Lupin boy--though I don't think that Aunt Arachne would approve of you being so scared of his being a Mudblood. I was talking about"-- she lifted a finger and pointed at my brother--"_Him._" 

I was confused. Yes, Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, but what impact did a silly little hat's opinion have on one's life? Yes, Mother thought it important, and yes, so did the rest of the family, but it was just a _hat._

"Sirius?" I asked. Bella rolled her eyes.

"No, I was talking about Uncle Alphard. Yes, _Sirius_, you pathetic excuse for a Black!"

I cringed. Bella was almost red in the face now.

"Come on, _Regulus._ Your brother can find his way back to the house by himself"--she was now addressing Sirius--"though I wouldn't come home if I were you, not with what Aunt Arachne's reaction to your first year is going to be."

"Fine then!" Sirius said his first words to Bella, almost shouting them. "I didn't want to stay with you pureblood maniacs anyway! I-I'll just stay with Remus--"

"No, you will _not! _You're coming with me! Gather your school things;, we're leaving!"

Inwardly, I sighed. Bellatrix was always such a hypocrite.

Sirius obeyed solemnly-- - he could tell there was no way of getting around my youngest cousin when she was acting like this. He wouldn't have really gone to stay with Lupin over the summer, I could tell it from the way he spoke; and from the look of Lupin's robes his family couldn't afford yet another child.

As Bella dragged both of us towards our kin , Sirius and I turned to look at Lupin. He stood there, waving, with a look on his face that looked like he thought we were never going to see him ever again. 


	2. Family Feuds

**TWO**

**Family Feuds**

It was hot that summer: a ferocious type of heat, one that made even the shade under the giant fruit trees that were scattered around the courtyard of my family's summer house burn my skin. Strangely enough, though, the heat, at its strongest during the middle hours of the day, seemed to disappear once evening set in, replaced by a bone-chilling coolness. Then, one would wrap blankets around oneselfÑusually to no availÑand hope not to be frozen to death by the next morning.

I, being made more for indoor studies than outdoor play, would have been oblivious to that fact if my family had been living in our regular house, rather than our summer one. _La Maison du Sang Pur_Ñthe House of Pure BloodÑwas its name.

Every year, in the week preceding my cousins' return from Hogwarts, my mother would praise old Altair Black, who had been given the _Maison_ as a gift for services to the Ministry back in the 1300s, for giving the house such an appropriate name. She would then rant and rave until she was blue in the face about how much the name "Grimmauld Place" didn't suit the family at all. My mother would never rename our house though, I knew; she was too attached to anything named, or inherited, or bought by the Aancient Blacks.

I don't care much for the _Maison_'s name; it just seems a bit too tacky to me.

Built in the early Middle Ages, the _Maison_ always seemed to be whatever temperature it was outside, inside. The draftiness of the place set it far apart from 12 Grimmauld Place, the home I was used to, and spent most of my time in. Though Grimmauld Place was old, it didn't hold a candle to the seemingly immortal air of the _Maison_.

Unlike NarcissaÑwho, as the oldest, got the best room and would sometimes let me sit in there with her and read for a whileÑBellatrix thrived in the outdoors. If the weather outside was fair, no one bothered asking where Bella wasÑit was obvious. I have vague memories of her when I was young, looking out the window at sheets of rain and glaring at it as if to say, "go away," in that authoritative tone she would often use on me.

As she agedÑinto a beautiful young woman, if I do say so myselfÑshe would still spend the majority of her summer outside, though now mostly just crunching fruit she'd coaxed from the house elves under various trees; or sitting on the bank of the small creek that ran in the back, letting her toes nip at the water; or just wandering through the endless maze of bushes in the courtyard. This willingness to be around nature startled MotherÑit was the only thing she disliked about BellaÑand one you could often hear her complaining to Aunt Cleneatha about it during the summer months: "Cleneatha, honestly, Black women are supposed to be timid, unknowing of the outside world. How do you ever think she'll get a good husband when she acts like _that?!_"

Sirius loved being outdoors too, though not as much as Bella. I agreed with his logic--the old and secret passageways of the _Maison_ were just as interesting--or more, in my opinion--as the twisting maze in the courtyard and the tiny, muddy creek.

Still, there was Andromeda: strong and beautiful and intelligent in her own right. Though she wasn't one who brought attention to herself, you could always tell she was _there_; there was an ominous aura around her that signified you of her presence. She was powerful, and she knew it.

She would never admit it outright, but Andromeda was most definitely Mother's favourite of the sisters--not Narcissa, the seemingly-perfect, beautiful one, or the strong-willed Bella. No, it was the quiet middle sister that she'd taken to, who, though startlingly different from her siblings, was obviously a Black--and not just because she looked like one either. 

Mother once said to Vanora Malfoy that she could see what Andromeda, definitely not in her prime now, was going to be in ten years--an obedient wife of a man respected by all--maybe Lucius, she'd have to talk to Cleneatha about that--and the mother of a child who would bring great honour to the family name.

"It's a thing called _potential_," she'd said.

***

Despite his rather dramatic entrance, the Sirius I had grown up with hadn't changed much since he had returned from Hogwarts--he was as stubborn as ever. Bella had been right--Mother was furious at her eldest son, and though she made said the principal reason was making the family late and leaving them no choice but to loiter with Muggles, I could tell that there was more than that. My mother had always had an obsession with the Gryffindor house; whenever the topic somehow slid itself into a conversation, she would spend what seemed like forever talking about what a disgrace they were to Hogwarts, and then what a disgrace Hogwarts was to England.

No, the only major difference was that my brother wasn't talking much. I must admit, Black children are usually very talkative--a trait my mother had always tried to drum out, mostly to no avail. We liked the talk; talking was how we vented our anger--or affection. 

Secrets weren't something long kept in our family. Sooner or later, someone would have to tell someone else--usually a house elf--and once you tell one creature, you've told everyone. House elves are very easy to extract information from, if you pick the correct language and use the right tools. 

Well, what I said before isn't entirely true. Sirius did talk--only toAndromeda and Ime, though he thought I was a bit too young for him, now that he had grown up and gone to Hogwarts. He tended to stick to Andromeda, though. There was something soothing about talking to her; she was a very good listener, if you found the right topic. 

And it was because of that that I found myself in the middle of a conversation I probably shouldn't have been in.

"I'm telling you, ÔCissa, he's gone mad. He--"

Narcissa sighed. "Bella, calm down. You're starting to act more and more like Aunt Arachne, and that thought in itself is frightening."

Bella and I were on the floor, playing Wizard's Chess, while Narcissa was attempting to complete her summer Potions questions, though she had only managed to finish one question in an hour. Bella had started the day outside, but once she found that Sirius was out there too, she had stalked off to her eldest sister's room, declaring that she didn't want to be in the same vicinity as he. I could hear my brother's voice from the courtyard, shouting the exact same thing back at her.

"Knight to F6." The black knight moved where my cousin directed it while Bella shot her sister a look. "You're telling _me_ to calm down?"

"Yes. I believe _I'm_ quite calm right now, thank you very much." 

Narcissa once again dipped her quill in her ink pot, and began to scratch notes on a piece of parchment. Bella, who had seemed to forget our game, was now boring a hole into Narcissa's head with her stare. Half a minute later, the blonde looked up and met her sister's gaze; it would have been impossible to ignore it.

Again, Narcissa sighed. "Bella, just ignore him."

"Ig--ignore him!"

"That's what I said."

Bella sputtered. Narcissa and I shared a smile; it was a rare occasion that anyone got to see my cousin like this. "Bishop to F6," I said, my chess piece violently whisking Bella's off the board. Bella didn't even notice when the rest of her pieces complained of her short attention span. 

"He's a _Gryffindor_! In our house!" she finally managed to say.

"Bella," said Narcissa coaxingly, as if her sister was a little child who wanted some sweet she couldn't have. "I know. And Gryffindors aren't worth our time, are they? They aren't even worth the dirty looks you insist on giving them. They are _nothing._ So just let him be. I bet he finds your anger hilarious anyway."

"I--I--_Fine!_" my youngest cousin fumed. "_You_ can do that, but _I'm_ going to give him hell! Do you know what those first year Slytherins called me at the beginning of last year? _ÔThat girl with the Gryffindor cousin._ I'm not my own person anymore; I'm the cousin of the boy who got Sorted into the wrong house. You might not care, Narcissa, but I do! I'm never going to get anything accomplished in life with _him_ around. I can only hope that Regulus won't follow in his footsteps!" She turned to me. "Get Sorted into Gryffindor and I'll kill you."

Not exactly sure how to respond to this, I said, "Oh."

Narcissa made an elaborate show of rolling her eyes. "Stop threatening Regulus; it's not going to get you anywhere."

Red in the face, Bella yelled, "Leave me _alone_, Narcissa! No one cares about you!"

The blonde rolled her eyes again, and proceeded to do her Potions homework. I could hear her mumbling various herbs and elixirs under her breath, and her pen scratching away at the parchment. Crossing her arms hotly, Bella stared in the opposite direction of the one her sister was in.

"It's your turn," I said quietly. Bella glared at me.

***

For what started out as a spat between siblings--unusual, but not so abnormal that it was a shock to the household--Bella and Narcissa's fight turned into quite a quarrel. Sirius loved it; here lay victory for him. His main enemy had another one to focus on, and truthfully I think it confused Bellatrix a little--which one deserved the most negative attention from her? In the end, it was sisterly love that spared Narcissa from the most of Bella's wrath, though she still experienced some of it.

The person who suffered most was, in fact, the one who had nothing to do with it. Andromeda hated it when her siblings fought. Narcissa and Bella and Andromeda were best friends; the worst things could happen to them and they would get through it, just because her sisters were there. I used to long to have this relationship with Sirius, but after I saw Narcissa and Andromeda practising kissing on each other, I wasn't so keen on the idea.

Andromeda was everywhere: trying to talk sense into Bella, and listening to Narcissa rant about how she didn't wish for a childish fight, but she wasn't going to talk to Bella until she got some sense knocked into her and stoppeds taking things so seriously. My middle cousin was also trying to deal with her aunt, who, usually in agreement with Andromeda's actions, was now furious at the fact that she was going out of her way to try to understand Sirius' position. 

Father, of course, didn't care. He was spending more and more time with the Ministry, and Uncle Rigel was now joining him. They were becoming obsessed with getting rid of Mudbloods--more obsessed than before, I mean. Mother was always hounding him about it, and now he was taking her seriously. I do did not know what was going to come out of this, but I know knew it probably wasn't going to be good.

Frankly, I was starting to get a bit confused.

It was a few days after the argument between my cousins when I decided I could not take it anymore. Aunt Cleneatha had taken me aside to tell me that this was normal family rivalry, and that it would pass, but I got the idea from the way she said that that she didn't think that was so. I had so many questions, and if I asked NarcissaÑthe only one who was now talking to me that wasn't an adult, since Andromeda was too busyÑshe would just give me a look that said, "Don't even bother, you're too young to understand it all."

But I'm _not_ too young. I'm nineÑand a very mature nine, according to Bella. I lived there; I deserved to know what is happening in my own house!

I stormed off towards the courtyard, soon lost within the maze of bushes that wove through it. This was the only part of the outside I truly likedÑthis was the perfect place to think. You could just run along through the maze, not knowing where you were going or where you had started, just thinking about whatever you wanted to. I could sit there for hours, undisturbed. Even though weÑmy brother, my cousins and IÑhad learned how to get through the maze in the quickest time possible when I was four, all one had to do is make one wrong turn and you could be lost for the rest of the day. It was times like this when I really appreciated the _Maison._

My fingers were a bit sore from the bushes sharp leaves and sticksÑI had been running them along it, contemplating how to solve this family feud that had erupted in our household. The stones that bordered the pathway were covered with dirt; no one had been here in a long time. Touching my head, I flinchedÑI had forgotten how hot it was outside, there in the shaded courtyard. Sometimes I wished I had blonde hair, just like Narcissa's.

"OhÑit's just you, Regulus."

I spun around to see my cousin Andromeda's head popping out of one of the niches made in the maze, where I usually went to read. I began to wish that I had brought a book; reading always seemed to calm me down.

"Hello, Andromeda," I said. I began to kick at some of the excess dirt on the stones, not sure of what else to do.

"Come here. I feel like I haven't talked to you ever since I got back from Hogwarts." She beckoned to me to follow her into the niche, where I was suddenly overcome by her body practically on top of me. I hugged her back. Out of all the sisters, Andromeda was the one who was the most open with her emotions, which was on the top of the list of things Mother hoped she would grow out of.

Andromeda let go, then gestured for me to take the seat next to her on the bench. I complied, brushing a thin layer of dust off before I sat down. My cousin smiled. "So. How was your year? It must have been very boring, having no one to talk to except Kreacher, Aunt Arachne and my mother."

"It was," I confessed. "Sometimes I wished that Sirius would come back... but now that he's back, I don't know if that was such a good wish to make." I met Andromeda's eyes with my own; I didn't know if that was the right thing to say or not. One could never know with Andromeda.

She sighed. "I don't know why everyone is acting this way. Sirius got Sorted into Gryffindor--but he's still the same person inside. No one's giving him a chance--he needs a chance!" Dropping her voice a bit, she continued. "And your mother isn't helping at all, no she isn't. It's horrible, the way she treats Sirius--she was doting on him last year. I've heard her talking to Mother; both of them, they think Sirius is a _failure!_ Merlin..."

I assumed Sirius wasn't a good topic of discussion between Andromeda and I.

Trying to find another thing to talk aboutÑI hate awkward silences as much as the next personÑmy eyes fell on a book half-covered by my cousin's robes, as if she didn't want me to see it. "What's that?" I said, pointing to the book.

Andromeda glanced at the spot I was pointing to. "Oh--that. It's a book. A very good one, too. You can read it after I'm finished."

Though she didn't seem to want to talk about it, I grabbed the book from it's hiding place and stared at the cover. "_To Kill A Mockingbird_'," I read aloud. Turning to my cousin, I asked, "What is it about?"

"Two children growing up in southern America during the 1930s. Their father is a lawyer, and their mother is dead. Then their fatherÑAtticusÑtakes on a court case and... well, you _must_ read it. It's so much more interesting than it sounds."

"I believe you," I said. It was in my experience than Andromeda's taste in books was very close to mine.

She smiled. "HereÑlet me read it to you. It'll be just like when you were little

Normally, I loathed being reminded of my younger years, but this was an exception. The only thing that was better than curling up with a good book was curling up with someone else and having them read it to you. Andromeda and I had first did this when I was three, and that was how I really began to read. 

"Okay." I handed Andromeda the book and she began reading, in an ominous but pleasing voice.

"'When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and Jem's fears of never being able to play football again were assuaged'Ñ" I made a mental note to look up Ôassuaged' during my next free moment "ÑÔhe was seldom self-conscious about his injury. His left arm was somewhat shorter than his right; when he stood or walked, the back of his hand was at right angles to his body, his thumb parallel to his thigh. He couldn't have cared less, so long as he could pass or punt.

"'When enough years had gone by to enable us to look back on them, we sometimes discussed the events leading up to his accident..."

I rested my head on Andromeda's shoulder, looking forward to a night with no worries about whether Bella and Narcissa were going to murder each other, or whether Mother was going to throw out Sirius, or whether Sirius was going to throw out himself.


End file.
